The House On Wylie's Wharf
by DarthRoden aka Carl
Summary: It's Halloween and our favorite footballhead and his friends go out at night to explore a mysterious house on a creepy island on the lake. Rated slightly for creepy urban legend in first chapter. Enjoy!
1. Chapter One

**Writer's Note:**_ The following "Hey Arnold!" fanfiction story is in honor of the month of October. Aside from the summer months, its one of my favorite months of the year, the leaves are orange and falling, the air gets slightly cooler, and sunset comes a lot earlier in the evenings. Also, the month of October ends with Halloween (Oct. 31st) The one day of the year that people, usually kids, dress up in costumes and don't get looked at funny on the streets, then legally go to people's homes and ask for candy._

_Further, this holiday also inspires spooky stories and creepy urban legends. In honor of this tradition, I, **DarthRoden**, offer to you, my fanatical fanfiction fanatics, a tale of suspense for Halloween._

**Disclaimer:**_ I do not own Nickelodeon's "Hey Arnold!" nor did I create any of the main characters. Master Craig Bartlett is the one who holds that honor, next to him I am but a lowly learner_.

**The House on Wylie's Wharf**

By DarthRoden (a.k.a. Carl)

**Chapter One: The Legend of Wylie's Wharf**

This story begins one sunny but slightly cool Friday afternoon in late October by the docks near the Hillwood city lake where Arnold, his best friend Gerald, and some of their other friends, Harold, Sid, Stinky, Curly and Eugene were hanging around, just trying to kill time.

School was officially out for the weekend, and tomorrow night was Halloween, which all of them was looking forward to. The result of having an empty schedule, coupled with an eagerly anticipated holiday meant that, for all of them, time seemed to be going extra slow.

Curly, Sid, and Stinky were tossing rocks into the lake at the floating garbage of empty bottles and drink cans that passed by trying to sink them. Harold was amusing himself by swinging on the metal guard rails. Eugene was just looking over the side at the passing fishes under the pier, making fish faces at them and so far, manageing not to fall over, as he normally would. Gerald was over by the drink machine getting a couple of Yahoo sodas.

Arnold was just sitting there at the end of the pier, his left leg dangling over the side and his arms around his right one resting against one of the pilings, looking out at the afternoon sunshine reflecting off of the less than clean lake water. He looked off at the city scape in the distance on the far side of the lake and Elk Island, the only green spot in the whole area, sitting there surrounded by dirty water and the old buildings.

He heard Gerald coming and turned his head to look up at his best friend, who was looking a little unhappy about something. He raised an eyebrow and asked, "What's wrong, Gerald?"

Gerald sighed and handed him one of the bottles of soda, which Arnold took egearly. "That stupid snack machine took my money again. I swear, I think that thing is rigged." Arnold nodded. He'd lost money in that machine himself before and was inclined to agree with Gerald.

Gerald sat down next to him and leaned back against the piling. "Man, Arnold, I'm_ so_ bored. I wish Halloween was tonight, instead of having to wait the rest of this day and then, all of tomorrow for it."

"Look on the bright side, Gerald, at least it gets dark sooner, so it won't be too much of a wait tomorrow." Arnold said, trying his best to cheer his friend up, then took a swig of soda.

"There you go again, Arnold," Gerald said, smiling a little. "Always looking on the bright side of things."

Arnold allowed himself a small smile and said, "Well, somebody has to."

"Yeah, but why always you?"

Shrugging, Arnold changed the topic. "What are you going to dress up as this year, Gerald?"

Now Gerald smiled and told him, "I'm going as a pirate. I even brought my costume the other day." Then he took a swig of his soda himself and added, "Thanks to Jamie-o and his stupid Halloween party though, we'll have to take my little sister Timberly around with us though."

"Oh come on, Gerald, it won't be so bad," Arnold said, trying to cheer his friend up, knowing that he was probably not happy about having to drag along his sister for trick or treating.

Now Gerald grinned and said, "Who said it would be bad? Timberly has that cuteness factor, so with her along, she can score us even more candy."

Arnold smiled and his half-lidded eyes looked amused. "Now who's looking on the bright side?" Both of them laughed together.

"Well, well, well," came a harsh-sounding female voice from behind them. "If it isn't_ Football-head_ and _Tall-Hair-Boy_."

Arnold sighed and turned his head, knowing exactly whom he would see, nor was he too surprised to see Helga standing there at the railing with her best friend, Phoebe. Helga had her arms crossed and her face was set in her usual mocking smirk. "Hey, Helga," Arnold said, sounding almost tired and he nodded to the girl next to her. Next to him, Gerald gave Phoebe a small, flirting grin, which made Phoebe smile back coyly.

Arnold looked up at her and asked, "Are you two bored waiting on Halloween to get here also?"

Helga snorted slightly, then said, "That's the understatement of the year, _football-head_."

Gerald looked at Phoebe and asked, "What are you guys doing?"

Before Phoebe could answer for herself, Helga butted in and answered for her. "Well, not that it's any of your beeswax, _Tall-Hair-Boy_ but we decided to come out here to spit in the lake. Not much else to do right now."

Phoebe nodded and said, "That is affirmative, Gerald."

"So, what are you doing out here anyway, Arnold-o?" Helga asked, looking at Arnold with her usual scowl.

"Nothing really, just staring out at the lake, looking out at Elk Island and the rest of the city beyond." Arnold turned his head to look out at the lake once more. "On days like this, the lake looks really nice." A moment later, a fish floated to the surface belly up between the tin cans and fast food wrappers.

"Oh yeah, really scenic," Helga said, rolling her eyes and snorting.

Arnold only sighed and then turned his head to the far right, toward the direction of the stone railroad bridge across the lake in the distance. The Great Northern Railroad Line trestle separated this half of the lake, where the city and Elk Island stood, with the other half closer to the woodlands just beyond the city limits. A train was crossing over the trestle at that very moment.

"Hey Arnold, whatcha looking at, man?" Gerald asked, noticing his best friend's gaze.

"Huh? Oh, just looking at the train crossing the bridge," Arnold explained. Then he smiled. "Hey Gerald, remember when we went under that bridge to go look for Big Caesar last year?"

Gerald sighed and said, "Don't remind me." He was still kicking himself over going along with Arnold when he talked him into letting Big Caesar go. Especially when he heard people mocking him and Arnold for not catching the legendary fish.

"Yeah, too bad you two chuckle-heads didn't actually _catch_ Big Caesar," Helga said, looking at them with her mocking smile. She enjoyed baiting both of them, especially Arnold.

Arnold really wanted to set her straight and tell her how they _did_ in fact catch Big Caesarand then let him go, but he knew that neither Helga, not anyone else (with the possible exception of his Grandpa Phil) would actually believe him and Gerald. From the look on Gerald's face, he too wanted to put Helga right.

"Big Caesar was nothing but an urban legend anyhow, and not a very good one either," Helga added, looking very smug.

Instead of getting mad, Arnold only looked at Gerald, shared a secret wink with him and then turned and offered Helga an amused smile. "Whatever you say, Helga."

Although Helga would never admit it in front of witnesses, Arnold's smile in her direction almost made her knees weak, but she held back those feelings very easily. She covered it with an annoyed expression and said, "Well, if he's really out there, why don't you two go get back in your little swan boat and go after him again, if you're so bored?"

That comment brought her some chuckles from Harold, Sid, Stinky and Curly at Arnold and Gerald's expense. Even Phoebe, who got along with Gerald far better than Helga herself did, actually covered her mouth with her hand and chuckled too.

"Yeah, Ar-nuld," taunted Harold, in his mocking, overgrown baby voice.

Curly smirked and added, "Yeah guys, there's no fog out there this time. Can't use that as an excuse. It's so clear, I'll bet you can even see Wylie's Wharf from the trestle right now."

Eugene looked up from his fish-gazing and raised an eyebrow at the comment. "What's Wylie's Wharf?"

Sid looked over at Eugene surprised and spoke very intensely like he did when he was overly excited. "What's Wylie's Wharf?! Eugene, don't tell me you've never heard of the horrible incident at Wylie's Wharf?!" Eugene only shook his head. "Man, I can't believe it! You've never heard anything about it?!"

"Neither have I," Arnold said, looking at Sid. Helga looked blank also, as did Phoebe. Harold looked over at Sid and shook his head. Stinky looked confused, of course such was a norm for the tall, gangling boy.

Curly looked just at incredulous at Sid did. "I can't believe you losers! It's only the creepiest urban legend ever! It's even creepier than the stories of Wheezing Ed, the Ghost Bride and the Headless Cabbie all _combined_!"

"Oh, well this ought to be good," Helga said, looking interested all at once and leaning with her back against a piling to listen. Arnold turned and sat up straighter to listen to the story.

"Yeah, I recon that this ought to be a good way to kill some time anyway," Stinky said, leaning against one of the railings. Everyone else stood expectantly waiting for someone to explain.

Sid nodded and then said, "The Legend of the incident at Wylie's Wharf is an urban legend, that has been passed down from kid generation, to kid generation, and as usual, our own Gerald is the keeper of the tale. Take it away, Gerald."

Gerald nodded and smiled, "Thanks Sid." Then he began to tell the story, using the story voice he used solely for urban legends.

"It all happened on a Halloween back in the early nineteen hundreds, out there on a small island on the other side of the lake named Wylie's Wharf. The island itself was not very big, but it was just large enough for a house to be built there. The house itself belonged to the family of the man named Jeremiah Wylie, who served in the Pig War and was given the small island as payment for his service against the redcoats. The island was hence named for him and his descendants.

"The last Wylie to reside there was a fisherman named, Sam Wylie, who lived on the island alone, like a hermit, coming to town only every now and again for supplies. He was a creepy old man, who wore a black raincoat, had a wooden leg and a hook for a left hand, just like a pirate. He even had a glass eye that he used to frighten children and adults alike whenever he passed them in the streets. Many simply referred to the old hermit as 'Old Man Wylie.'

"One day, Old Man Wylie returned home from a lousy day of fishing to discover visitors to the island. It was the bank manager and several policeman, who informed him that his house had been foreclosed on and bought by a business mogul, who planned to use it as a guest resort and retreat for his friends and family. Wylie was so shocked that he went mad and attacked the bank manager shouting out that the house and the island were his, and had been in his family for generations. He was arrested and taken away, but not before he vowed a terrible revenge on those who robbed him of his family's land.

"A year later, on a stormy Halloween night, the rich businessman who'd bought Wylie's Wharf was holding a Halloween party for several business friends on the island. What they did not know about, being on that island out on the lake, was that old man Wylie had escaped from prison. They would never know before it was too late for all of them.

"That night, a young woman turned up on shore in a small boat, screaming hysterically and her white dress covered in blood. When the police went out to Wylie's Wharf to investigate, they made a terrible and gruesome discovery.

"The businessman and his guests were all found throughout the house, murdered with a hook and hung up by their ankles like fish in the living room of the house. They also discovered Wylie, who stood there laughing in his black fisherman's hat and raincoat. His left hand, which had the hook, was dripping with blood.

"He ran with the police in pursuit to the edge of the water where he jumped into his small boat and tried to row toward the woods beyond. Unfortunately for him, in the chase, he hit a rock and his boat began to sink. For some strange reason, despite being a fisherman, the old man never learned how to swim, or maybe he just couldn't tread water with a hook? Whatever the reason, he sank to the bottom of the lake. The police would search for weeks, dragging the lake, but his body was never recovered.

"Every Halloween on the anniversary of that terrible night, people claim to see a shadowy figure off in the distance on the small island of Wylie's Wharf. They claim it is the vengeful and unholy ghost of the deranged fisherman, walking the island, in search of anyone foolish enough to go out there. Ready to cleave them with his bloody hook and hang them up like a bunch of trout. Over the years, many thrill seekers have dared to walk on the small island on the anniversary of that terrible night, but none have ever returned.

"So beware boys and girls, do not dare to venture out toward Wylie's Wharf on Halloween night, not if you value your very life and your Halloween candy." Gerald smiled as he looked over to see their reactions and finished with the words, "The end." Everyone clapped and he took a bow.

Eugene looked over at the stone bridge, almost as if he could see the creepy house on the small island beyond. "Wow, Gerald, that was a _really_ creepy story."

"Well, he forgot to mention the most important part of the legend," Sid said, looking over at Eugene. "The anniversary of the murders is tomorrow night on Halloween."

"Boy, I recon that I'd hate to be on Wylie's Wharf tomorrow night," Stinky said, looking at them dully.

Harold looked a little nervous as they said those things, then he said, "Ah, this is boring. I'm going home to get some food." He turned to go and called back. "See you later, Ar-nuld."

Sid nodded and said, "Yeah, me and Stinky are going to go also, talk to you guys later."

"See you later, Arnold," Stinky called back as he and Sid made their way off the pier after Harold.

Now the only ones left on the pier were Arnold, Gerald, Helga, Phoebe, Curly and Eugene. They were bored once again. Eugene went back to his examination of the fish by the pier, Curly tossed a rock at the garbage floating by and missed every aimed shot by a mile.

Gerald walked over to the two girls. "So Phoebe, what do you plan on going trick or treating as?"

Phoebe smiled and said, "This Halloween, I have decided to dress as a black cat. I have my costume at home."

Grinning, Gerald said, "You know, I'll bet you'd make a purr-fect feline, Phoebe." The small oriental girl giggled at his sense of humor.

Helga rolled her eyes and muttered, "Oh, _criminy_." Then she went over to where Arnold sat. He'd returned to his inspection of the trestle, oblivious to everything else around him. She took the opportunity to briefly take in the sight of his golden blonde locks flowing in the gentle autumn breeze, and the unfocused gaze of his green eyes.

Even though she wanted to, Helga didn't dare show the smile she felt on the inside. To cover up her feelings, she asked, "Hey _football-head_, what are you thinking about?"

"Huh?" Arnold blinked and looked over at Helga. "Oh, I was just thinking about the Legend of Wylie's Wharf."

Helga leaned against the piling and put her hands in her purple jacket. "Yeah, what a crock, huh?"

"Well, what if it's true?" Arnold said, looking very thoughtful. "What if there really _is_ a ghost that comes out every Halloween night and haunts that island?" Now everyone looked over at Arnold, listening to his words.

"Oh please, don't tell me you actually believe that stupid legend," Helga said, snorting. "There's no such things as ghosts."

"It could happen, Helga," Arnold said looking over at her. "There really could be a ghost on Wylie's Wharf. I mean, tomorrow night is Halloween."

"Yeah, right." Helga still seemed unconvinced. She folded her arms across her chest and looked away. "And maybe gummy worms will start crawling out of my ears."

"Try to be a little open-minded, I mean, what if the legend really is true?"

Helga looked at him and sighed, "Oh come on, hair-boy. How many of Gerald's far out urban legends about ghosts and monsters have turned out to be real?"

"Well, um, none really," Arnold said, hating to admit that Helga had a point. "Still, what if this one _is_ for real?"

"It's nothing but a bunch of hooey,_ football-head_," Helga said, turning her head. "There is no such thing as ghosts."

Arnold got a little annoyed by her attitude and then he smirked and said, "Well, I can understand if your . . . afraid."

That got the reaction Arnold was hoping for. Helga blinked and looked at him. "Afraid? Ha! I'm not afraid of anything!"

"Well then, if it's nothing but a story, then why don't all of us meet here tomorrow night at nine o'clock?" Arnold asked, looking up at her and meeting her eyes in challenge.

"Huh?" Gerald looked over at his best friend like he was crazy.

Ignoring him, Arnold added, "We can all meet here just after trick or treating."

Helga looked at Arnold's challenging smirk, frowned and said, "You're on, you little yellow-haired shrimp! Me and Phoebe will be here."

"W-we will?" Phoebe asked, not sounding nearly as certain as her best friend.

"So will me and Gerald, "Arnold said, answering Helga's little challenge and smiling back at her.

"Say what?!" Gerald asked, looking at Arnold anxiously.

"Oh cool, can I come along?" Curly asked looking at them. "I don't have anything better to do after I go free the fish at the aquarium." After seeing the way the others all looked at him, he said quickly, "Oh, er, you didn't hear that." He grinned widely with face innocence.

"How about it, Eugene?" Arnold asked, looking over at the geeky boy. "Wanna tag along?"

"Wow, you actually want me to come along on an adventure with you guys?" Eugene's eyes lit up. "This is so cool." He didn't watch where he was going when he backed up excited and fell over the side of the pier in the foot deep water at that spot. He was covered in dirty water, garbage and mud as he looked up and said, "I'm okay."

"Good, then it's all settled, everyone meets here tomorrow night at nine o'clock, right after trick or treating." Arnold said to all of them. Then he looked over at Helga and added, "Unless it's too scary for you?"

Helga snorted and said, "In your dreams, Arnold-o!" Both of them leaned forward almost nose to nose, looking one another in the eyes, neither one willing to blink.

Unknown to them, someone had been listening in from nearby the whole time and then quickly left.

_**To Be Continued . . . **_


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two: Halloween Night and Grandpa's Tale**

After a whole day of waiting, Halloween night finally arrived. Throughout the entire city, kids in costumes went from door to door with sacks and plastic baskets collecting candy, and occasionally, performing various tricks on people who refused, or simply did something to annoy the trick-or-treaters. This went on from dusk till around nine that evening.

At around eight-thirty, Arnold and Gerald were walking down the street together, still in their Halloween costumes. Arnold was dressed in black, with a black bandana mask and Zorro hat; Gerald was dressed in a pirate costume, complete with striped socks, torn pants legs, dirty white shirt, eye-patch over his right eye, and a clip-on skull ear ring in his left ear. They'd just come from Gerald's house after dropping off Gerald's four-year-old sister, Timberly.

"Man, Arnold, there are times when having a cute little sister comes in handy," Gerald said, grinning widely and patting the nearly gallon-sized bag full of candy he held in his left hand.

Arnold smiled in his own amused way as he too held a huge bag full of candy. "Thanks for having me along, Gerald."

"No problem, good buddy," Gerald said, then both of them grinned and did their friendship handshake, placing their hands together and then wiggling their thumbs. "I'm glad that I can spend the night at your place, man. Now I can eat all of this candy without having to worry about Jamie-o taking it from me."

Grinning, Arnold looked over just as they turned toward his house. "Well, when we drop off the candy at my house, we have to hide it in my room, or Oscar will try and get it."

They reached the stoop of Arnold's house a moment later, where Arnold's Grandpa Phil stood out on the stoop, dressed in a warlock costume, complete with black robe and hat. He handed out some candy to a pair of younger kids, both of whom were wearing Wally The Dinosaur costumes.

"Hey Grandpa, how's candy duty tonight?" Arnold asked him.

"Oh the usual, same as every year, Shortman. Had to run Oscar off three times. Once he even tried to impersonate a kid in a ghost costume." His grandpa said, then chuckled. Both boys joined him.

"Hey Phil, where's Gertie at?" Gerald asked, looking around.

Phil sighed, "Pookey is out behind the house in the pumpkin patch waiting for the Great Pumpkin to arrive, crazy old loon."

"Well, at least she isn't out collecting black cats again this year," Arnold added.

"Trick or treat!"

Arnold and Gerald turned to see Helga and Phoebe standing at the bottom of the stoop, holding out some sacks that were almost full of candy. Phoebe was dressed in a full body black cat suit, complete with a tail, and a plastic head band with a pair of fake cat ears on them. Some glue-on whiskers added to the effect. Helga was dressed in the same outfit she wore when she pretended to be the Ghost Bride several months ago, except that the dress was a little more tattered and dirty and Helga had makeup under her eyes to give her a dead looking expression.

Phil laughed a little and said, "Well you two look very scary." He gave them each a handful of the little candy bars and suckers in the bowl since they were friends of Arnold and Gerald.

"Wow, great costumes," Arnold said looking at both of them, especially Helga, who he had to admit did look good in her costume. 'Wait, did I think Helga looked good?' He thought to himself. _'Well she does, I mean in that costume. Um, not that she doesn't look good any other time, but well, um that is . . .'_ Arnold shook these thoughts out of his mind.

Helga blinked and thought to herself, _'He likes my costume.'_ She didn't smile, even though she felt like it inside. She briefly admired his own Zorro costume in her own mind._ 'He looks so dashing and brave. Oh my beloved Arnold.'_ Outwardly, she smirked and said, "Yeah, you don't look_ too_ much like a geek than normal yourself, _football-head._"

Arnold didn't get mad, or even very annoyed. Coming from Helga, that was a complement. "Thanks."

Gerald was admiring Phoebe's costume, as well as the person inside it. "You look great tonight, Phoebe." He felt a lot warmer for some reason and smiled brightly.

Phoebe only turned slightly red in the streetlight and smiled back, "You look pretty good yourself, Gerald." She too was admiring him.

Helga frowned and got between them, "Yeah, yeah, now that we're done flirting, why don't we get to the docks before nine o'clock."

Arnold looked at Helga and Phoebe and asked, "You guys wanna keep your candy here with ours before we go out to Wylie's Wharf?"

There was a crash as Arnold's grandpa dropped the plastic candy dish and spilled the rest of the candy down the stoop. He looked at them wide eyed, "Jumping Jehosophat! Your going to Wylie's Wharf on Halloween?!" At that moment, several kids, and Oscar ran out of nowhere and began to greedily pick up the fallen candy, laughing and cheering. Phil didn't even notice because he was too busy staring at Arnold.

"Whoa, you're a really bold kid, to go taking on Wylie's Wharf on Halloween night, Arnold. A bold kid indeed."

"Hey, that my line, Bubba," Gerald said, looking over at Phil and raising his eyebrow.

"Did I ever tell you of the time I went out to Wylie's Wharf on Halloween?"

"Er, well, no you didn't, Grandpa," Arnold admitted, though he didn't look too enthused to hear the story either.

His grandpa looked ahead and his gaze had the same sort-of far-away look Arnold's had when he was daydreaming, and he began his tale.

"It was fifty years ago, I was out on the lake doing a little night fishing. It was a full moon and the fish were biting good. I rowed my little dingy out past the trestle into the foggy part of the lake. I knew I went out too far when I saw the small island where Wylie's Wharf sat. The house stood there, right in the middle of the lake, surrounded by the fog. It stood there, looking like a decaying tooth. Frankly, just looking at it in the daylight is enough to send a chill down your back..

"Suddenly, the line I had out in the water ran and I began reeling in what I though would be the mother of all fish from the strain on the line. Instead, as I pulled it in, I heard this terrible shrieking, like a lost and lonely soul were crying out in pain. The water and the fog carried the sound out a great distance. Needless to say I was really spooked then.

"All of a sudden, a shape rose out of the water and a skeletally thin hand grabbed hold of my boat. I hadn't hooked a fish at all, instead, I'd hooked the body of Old Man Wylie himself. He was in his black raincoat and hat, hook sticking out of his right hand. I never saw his face, only the glow of a single creepy red eye, probably his real one.

"I screamed and then rowed for my life, never looking back, for fear that if I looked over my shoulder, I would see the vengeful spirit of Old Man Wylie standing over me, gleaming hook and all, ready to do me in for trespassing on his domain. Ever since that day, I've never crossed under the trestle again."

Arnold felt bumps rise on his arms and neck, as if cold hearing that story. Gerald looked up at Phil, unblinking and his mouth wide opened, next to him Phoebe held his arm and looked frightened.

Helga was the only one who looked unconvinced, she snorted, "Hooey! What a crock!"

"Oh, it's very true, young lady," Phil said, looking at them. "I remember it all as clear as if it were yesterday." Then he blinked and said, "Or maybe as if it were last week? Or last month? Heck, maybe it just dreamed it all up, I do have quite the imagination." He chuckled a moment, then looked at Arnold seriously. "All I know is, you better be careful tonight, Shortman, lots of weird things have happened out on Wylie's Wharf on Halloween night. It's not a good idea to go messing around with the unknown. It could be dangerous, then again, maybe not. That's why it's called the unknown, I mean, who knows what can happen, or if it will happen. Nobody knows."

"Um, we'll be careful Grandpa, I promise," Arnold said, both assuring the old man. Then he asked him, "Could you look after our candy till we get home?"

"Sure thing, Shortman," Phil said, taking the candy bags from all four kids.

"Hey Arnold, if you and your little friends don't come back tonight, can I have your candy?" Mr. Kokoshka asked them eagerly.

"Oscar you bum, will you just go and buy your own candy!" Grandpa, shouted out at him.

From behind the house, Arnold's grandmother yelled out, "Will you keep it down, the Great Pumpkin won't come if you keep yelling!"

"Thanks Grandpa, we better hurry up and meet the others at the docks," Arnold said, taking it as their cue to leave. The others followed closely behind him.

After a block, Gerald broke the silence. "Hey Arnold, do you think your Grandpa's story is true?" He still looked a bit nervous from it.

"I don't know, Gerald," Arnold said, then added, "I mean, my grandpa has been known to stretch the truth a bit."

"Well Arnold, your grandfather's tale was certain suspenseful," Phoebe said, standing close to Gerald as she walked.

"I think the old man is getting a little senile in his old age, I mean, what is he now, a hundred and forty-five?" Helga said, snorting.

"He's eighty-one, Helga, and he's not senile," Arnold said, looking annoyed now. "He's just, well – he likes to make things up from time to time." Even as he said this, he couldn't help but wonder if this was one of those times.

_**To Be Continued . . .**_


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three: The House In The Fog**

The four costume-clad kids made their way to the docks, making it there with just a minute to spare. In the light of the full moon, the water looked dark and foreboding. The lights of the city shown like stars in the background, just barely visible in the fine white mist rolling across the dark lake.

Waiting for them on the pier was Eugene, who was currently dressed up in the same sort-of alien costume that the gang wore on their last ill-fated Halloween adventure the previous year. "Oh wow, great costumes you guys," Eugene said, greeting them with his usual enthusiasm.

"Thanks, Eugene," Arnold said, then looked around. "Where's Curly at?"

"I'm right here," came Curly's voice from behind the snack machine. He stepped out, dressed just like a castaway from a deserted island, with a torn shirt and dirty pants with shredded legs. Underneath his left arm, he carried what looked like a volley ball with a crudely painted face on it.

"Hey Curly," Arnold said, "Wow, great costume."

Curly looked blank, "What costume?"

Gerald raised an eyebrow, "Um, the costume your wearing. You know . . . for Halloween?"

"Oh no! Tonight's Halloween!" Curly looked shocked and turned to the volley ball. "Wilson, why didn't you remind me!" He glared at the ball a moment, and then said, "Hey, don't give me that, your supposed to keep track of things like this!"

Helga sighed and said, "The full moon brings out all the weirdos."

"Tell me about it," Gerald nodded in agreement.

Now Helga turned on Arnold and asked, "So, now that we're here, how the heck are we supposed to get out to Wylie's Wharf genius?"

Suddenly, from out of the darkness came the mechanical sound of a small motor and with it a voice singing over the water:

"_Farewell and adieu to ye fair Spanish ladies,  
farewell and adieu, dear ladies of Spain!  
For we've received orders to sail back to Boston,  
and so nevermore shall we see ye again!"_

A shape slowly came out of the ghostly fog and into focus. It was a small motor boat being driven by a man wearing a yellow sailor's raincoat and hat. He had a grey beard and wild eyes.

"That's how we're going to get there. Sheena's Uncle Earl will take us all out there," Arnold explained and walked over to the end of the pier. "Excuse me, mister," Arnold called out.

"That's 'Captain Earl' to ye matie, argh," Earl said to him, looking at him with those wild eyes.

"Um, right, er, Captain Earl," Arnold said, looking at bit uncomfortable. "Can you take all of us out to Wylie's Wharf?"

The old man looked over at him and said, "Wylie's Wharf eh? You'd be willing to take on the unholy spirit of Old Man Wylie then?" He looked them up and down, then shook his head. "Argh, crazy kids, never learn nuthin."

"What are you talking about, man?" Gerald asked him.

"Lots of really strange things have been known to go on around Wylie's Wharf on Halloween night, mate. Mysterious lights in the fog; strange sounds, like the wailing of lost souls." He looked at them, and in the light of the moon and street light by the pier, he looked slightly deranged. "There are things out on that side of the lake that never sleep, me buckos. If I were ye, I would turn around and go home now."

Helga snorted, "Well, we're not 'ye' and _we_ will take our chances, so enough with the ghost stories and tell us how much it'll cost us to go out there for an hour or so?"

Earl sighed, "Argh, so be it. It'll cost ye a dollar."

Arnold blinked, "Wait a minute, all those other times you took me out to Elk Island it only cost fifty cents."

"Price is doubled for the danger, lad. I'll not be risking me neck for a mere fifty cents," he told Arnold. "That's me final offer, take it, or leave it."

Gerald sighed, "Oh well, we tried Arnold. Better go home and eat our Halloween candy." He turned to go. Phoebe tried to follow, adding, "I quite concur with Gerald, so if you'll excuse me, Helga –"

"Hey, you two come back here!" Helga said, frowning and scowling. "Nobody is chickening out now, you got it?" Both of them halted and turned, looking less than enthused.

Arnold sighed and pulled out some money. A moment later, all of them did the same and piled into the small boat. It smelled like fish and live bait. After putting on the life jackets that Earl gave them, they took their seats. Arnold sat up front, so he could look out at what was ahead of them. Helga sat next to Arnold on the port side (the right side) with Eugene (who tripped over some rope climbing into the boat) and Curly (holding Wilson in his lap) next to her. Across from them on Arnold's other side, was Gerald, who sat with Phoebe close to him. They both held hands, out of reassurance and comfort.

"Everyone ready?" Earl asked.

"Aye, aye, Captain," Eugene said, enthusiastically and saluting. Helga rolled her eyes and muttered, "Criminy."

With that, Earl started the loud motor, and the small boat began its journey towards the foggy part of city lake. The boat moved somewhat slowly over the dark water, the smell of the water itself, mixed with the cold, autumn air, added to the creepy effect. The moonlight, broken now only by the presence of several clouds overhead, made everything look eerie.

The mood was suddenly broken by Captain Earl's singing:

"_Fifteen men on a dead man's chest,  
yo ho ho, and a bottle of root beer –"_

"Hey man, isn't it supposed to be 'a bottle of rum'?" Gerald asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"There be no drinking aboard me ship, matie," Earl said, looking at him. Then he smiled and said, "Fine, I'll sing something else. I know a song ye kids might like." He cleared his throat and began:

"_Ohhhhhhhh, who lives in the pineapple under the sea –"_

"Oh, put a sock in it, Quint!" Helga said, clearly annoyed. All off the other kids muttered in agreement, except for Eugene, who blinked and smiled knowing the tune.

"Argh," muttered Earl under his breath.

As they approached the Great Northern Railroad trestle, a train roared by overhead. The train's whistle reminded Arnold of the time that he, Gerald, and Helga all went in search of the haunted train his grandpa told him about last year.

Once they passed by the trestle, a thick, cold fog enveloped them. On this side of the trestle there were no city lights to go by. This part of the lake was set in the wooded area next to the city. The only light to go by was the overhead moonlight, which fought against the white fog to give them a small amount of visibility.

Next to Gerald, Phoebe trembled, both from the cold and from fear. Her rational, logical mind told her that fog was nothing to be afraid of, and that ghosts and other supernatural entities were not scientifically proven, nor disproved. Yet, that did not stop her from snuggling up close to Gerald, who looked over at her and put his arm around her. She smiled at the small warmth that he provided and the slightly irrational feeling of protection she felt snuggled up against him, as if he were a security blanket.

Helga glanced across at Phoebe and Gerald, and frowned slightly. Then she turned to look at Arnold, who sat facing the front of the boat, looking out over the fog for the first sign of their destination. She allowed a small smile at the way the wind blew his golden hair around his face, yet somehow his small, blue cap stayed firmly in place. She glanced at his dreamy green eyes, now alert and focused underneath his Zorro mask, and then down to his thin, pink lips, and she felt her heart beating faster.

Arnold felt he was being watched all of a sudden, then blinked, turning his head to glance over at Helga. For a moment, he saw her smiling, and her blue eyes looked unfocused and dreamy for an instant. Then she blinked, and scowled at him and crossed her arms looking away.

Arnold sighed and looked back out over the water. Then, for some reason, he glanced out of the corner of his vision at Helga once more. She'd shifted her body to face his way and look out over the water, her eyes were thoughtful and her blonde pigtails and pink ribbon, waved in the wind . Her blonde hair shined bright in the moonlight. Arnold felt himself smile all of a sudden, thinking how he'd never seen Helga look so . . . interesting.

From behind them, Eugene was humming the annoying tune that Earl tried to sing last, and putting on his annoying happy face.

Helga frowned then glanced over at Arnold, who she saw also looked slightly annoyed. She smirked, "Criminy, I feel like tossing him overboard." To her amazement, Arnold only smiled and shrugged. They had eye contact then, and for some reason, didn't feel like looking away.

"There it is! I see it!" Curly shouted out. "There it is, Wilson, Wylie's Wharf!" He held up the volley ball, face out so it could "see" their destination. The momentary spell between Arnold and Helga was broken, and they blinked and looked out over the dark water, as did the others.

The fog slowly parted to show them a small, somewhat bare island, that looked like the top of a small hill rising out of the water. On top of this hill was a two story house, with a small, pointed tower on one side and a large porch. The house itself was old, rundown, and falling apart. The only two trees on the island near the house, were bare and rotting. They resembled dark skeletal hands sticking up out of the ground. Dead weeds stuck up all around the island. The moon shined just over the top of the house.

The house gave all of them the creeps. Phoebe and Gerald held each other more closely, and Curly held onto Wilson tightly.

Earl's boat made it's way to a small rotting pier at the tip of the small island. Nailed to it was a weathered sign with words written in peeling white paint that read: DANGER! CONDEMNED PROPERTY! DO NOT ENTER!

The boat pulled up to the edge of the land and Earl told them, "I'll be back for ye in one hour. Argh."

"Thank you, sir," Arnold said, climbing out and offering Helga a hand, which she took willingly at first, then quickly let go of frowning once she was out of the boat, but secretly enjoying the contact. Gerald did the same for Phoebe, who smiled bashfully. Curly jumped out and said, "Well Wilson, here we are." Eugene tripped over one of the boat lines and fell on his face into the dirt, then muttered, "I'm okay."

Earl turned the boat back into the lake and called out, "Good luck to ye, and watch out for the ghost of Old Man Wylie!" He waved to them before both him and his boat were swallowed up by the fog. Even his engine was silent after a moment.

They were now on their own . . . or at least, they thought so.

**_To Be Continued . . ._**

_Don't worry, another chapter will be ready soon. I can only hope to have this fic finished by Halloween. Wish me luck! Oh yeah, I also felt like tossing Eugene overboard when I wrote that part too, LOL! "Death to Spongebob! Hey Arnold! Forever!"  
Oh yeah, Jae B, you were right about the killer's description. I Know What You Did Last Summer was the inspiration! Give yourself 10 bonus points! Keep up the good work!  
More Coming Soon! Stay Tuned! -D.R._


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four: Stranded **

Arnold turned and looked up at the tall, rotting house which loomed over them on top of the small rising hill, giving it a closer inspection from where they were.

It had two stories in the main part with dark, square windows and what looked like a round attic window for the third. There was a taller section next to the porch on the left side that looked a lot like a tower the same length as the house, with more square windows, one for each of the three stories. There was a long, wrap-around porch out front. The windows of the bottom floor were all boarded up, as was the front door, and the other windows were black with missing glass in the square frames. The house had missing shingles on the parts of the roof that could be seen, and missing wooden siding in various parts of the worn and peeling white paint job. The two dead trees on either side of the house only had their large main trunks and a few of the larger branches left between the two of them.

"Oh man, what a dump," Helga said, scowling up at the house.

"It appears as if the house is completely dormant," Phoebe said after a quick observation.

"Yeah, and it doesn't look as if anyone still lives here either," Eugene said, adding his own two cents.

Helga frowned and said, "See, no ghost. No nothing but a rotting old house and a small spit of land in the middle of the lake." She sighed and said, "What a perfectly good waste of a Halloween night."

"Now what, Arnold?" Gerald asked, looking over at him, lifting the eyepatch from his left eye.

Arnold hadn't thought about that part of this adventure. He just shrugged and said, "Well, um, we came here to prove that we could do it. I guess now all we have to do is wait here for an hour till Earl comes back for us."

Helga snorted, "Yeah, right. Like I'm gonna just sit around here for an hour with you chuckle-heads waiting for that old fart to come back."

"Come on, Helga, there isn't anything here but an old house that looks like it's falling apart," Arnold said.

"Well then, what the heck are we waiting for, lets go take a look." Helga said turning to start up the hill.

"Helga, wait!" Arnold said, grabbing her arm quickly. "That place is condemned and it doesn't look very safe. Plus the signs say no trespassing."

Helga roughly wrenched her arm from Arnold's grasp and said, "Fine then, _hair-boy_, what do you suggest we do with our time?"

To be perfectly honest, the idea of sitting by the pier for an hour in the fog didn't sound to Arnold like much of a way to pass the time.

"Hey guys, I still have some marshmallows that I was munching on when I went trick or treating," Eugene said, pulling a half a bag of large, white marshmallows from the deep pocket of his costume. "Why don't we start up a camp fire and roast the rest of them?"

The others all nodded their agreement smiling. "Great going, Eugene!" Arnold said, patting him on the back. Gerald grabbed his left shoulder and shook it happily, "My man!" Helga smirked and said, "Well, the little geek actually came through."

Arnold said, "We should try and gather some firewood and make a fire."

"Wait, how are we supposed to make a fire?" Phoebe asked looking at everyone. "Did anyone bring any matches?"

Helga snorted again, "Criminy, none of us have any matches, were just kids!"

"I do," Curly said, speaking up suddenly and pulling out a book of matches. The rest of them looked at him oddly for a moment.

"Um, Curly, why do you have matches?" Gerald asked him, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

Curly just paused and then said, "Sorry, Jo Jo, that's classified information. That's just between me and Wilson – no, you can't tell him! It's a secret!" The latter part was directed at the volley ball.

"O-kay," Arnold said and dropped the subject. Then Arnold and the others went along the pier and gathered up some old sticks, dried brush, rotten planks and other combustible things they could find near the shore. Eugene and Curly both found plenty of hand-sized rocks to put in a circle and cleared off the space inside of it.

After the gang was finished, Curly lit the sticks and brush at the bottom with a couple of the matches. It took no time at all for the fire to start blazing away. Curly whooped with glee and began to dance in front of the fire and sang out, "Behold! Look what I have created!"

"Oh pipe down, you weird little gerbil!" Helga said annoyed.

Everyone then sat down and Gerald passed around some long sticks to roast the marshmallows that Eugene passed around, thankfully without dropping any of them. Arnold sat with his back to the house, while Phoebe sat to his left with Gerald on her other side. Curly sat next to him with Wilson resting on his lap, while Eugene sat next and finally Helga, who sat on Arnold's other side, secretly happy to be there, and smiling slightly, though she pretended it had to do with the idea of roasting marshmallows.

Not long after the five of them (not including Wilson) sat down on improvised seats of old buckets and driftwood, the smell of roasting marshmallows filled the foggy air around them. The moonlight was now sporadic between the coming dark clouds overhead, making the lighting even more dark and mysterious. The fog was now getting a little thicker over the island itself, but not so much that it blocked the view of the house on the hill. Off in the distance lightning flashed and thunder sounded.

Eugene sat there, roasting his marshmallow with a huge grin on his face, still humming that same annoying tune from before, though not too loudly. Everyone was in good spirits now that they had something to do.

Phoebe smiled a little and glanced at Gerald. "You know, the spooky ambiance of this island, as well as the campfire does seem to add a little to the whole spirit of Halloween."

Gerald looked over at her and smiled in a flirty way, "Yeah, it does, doesn't it?" Phoebe smiled back bashfully at his smile.

Helga rolled her eyes and then glanced over at Arnold, who looked down at the fire and his own marshmallow, with a small smile on his oblong face. The fire made his eyes look like they were sparkling. She resisted an urge to sigh lovingly and looked back down at her own marshmallow, which was starting to burn, since her mind had been elsewhere. She drew back the stick and the burning marshmallow, which now resembled a small, dark piece of charcoal. Then she let out a small growl of frustration.

Arnold saw this and then handed out his own stick and perfectly roasted marshmallow, "Want mine, Helga?" She looked over at him, blinked and then nodded, "Um, yeah, I guess." She took it from him and handed over her own stick. Then she paused and said gently, "Thanks, football-head."

Ignoring the nickname, Arnold only smiled and said, "No problem, Helga. Next time, try to hold the stick just over the fire."

Helga snorted and said, "Hey, I know how to roast marshmallows, _doofus_." She turned back to eating Arnold's marshmallow. Arnold looked at how she looked in the firelight and actually thought that it added to the creepy effect of her Halloween costume, but in a cool way. She actually looked somewhat pretty. He blinked and suddenly had the urge to look down and get busy roasting another marshmallow, his face felt hot.

'_Must be the fire,'_ he thought to himself, sticking a new marshmallow onto the stick.

Time drew on for what seemed like a long time. Soon all of the marshmallows were eaten, and a few burned (or dropped in Eugene's case). Now the five kids sat around the fire waiting impatiently for Captain Earl to return. In the meantime the moon was blotted out by the clouds overhead and the thunder became louder, even bone-rattling.

Finally after an hour, Helga voiced everyone's impatience. "Criminy, where the heck is he? He said he'd be back in an hour, and it's been _over_ an hour."

"Sixteen minutes over an hour to be exact," Phoebe specified then sighed sounding tired.

"Oh don't worry guys, I'm sure that Captian Earl will be along anytime to pick us up," Eugene said in his usual overly cheerful, optimistic way. Then he sighed and added, "Yep, any minute now."

Arnold looked over at Eugene and said, "Eugene, please do me and everyone else a favor and don't say that again." He remembered the last time Eugene said those words both he and Arnold were stuck in a tree for hours on end waiting for help to arrive. Eugene passed the time humming and muttering those words over and over at various intervals. It was an experience that Arnold tried very hard to forget.

Eugene looked at Arnold, "But I was only trying to be optimistic. I mean, what am I supposed to do, say that he isn't coming back, that were stuck here on this haunted island all alone?" He looked as if he was starting to get a bit worried now.

"Maybe Old Man Wylie got him out there in the fog and he's slowly making his way here to get us next?!" Gerald said, looking very anxious. Phoebe looked scared and grabbed his arm for support. A flash of lightning in the background added to the eerie effect of those words.

"Oh come on, Gerald, it's more than likely he fell asleep in his boat back at the docks," Arnold said, trying to be the voice of reason.

Curly sighed and looked beside him at the face painted on the volley ball. "Well, Wilson, it looks like you and I are castaways on this small, deserted island."

"Oh this is just great," Helga said looking annoyed once more. "We're stuck here in an island in the middle of the deserted part of the lake. I don't even have my candy with me. Humph, some Halloween." She folded her arms across her chest and looked out at the black water.

The wind picked up making the flames of the campfire dance more and chilling all of them slightly. More thunder and flashes of lightning could be heard in the distance, as well as another passing train on the trestle beyond the fog.

"What if we're stuck here all night?" Phoebe suddenly asked looking very anxious now.

"Don't worry," Arnold said reassuringly. "My grandpa knows where we went and if we don't return home in a few hours then someone will come looking for us."

"Oh great, what could be worse than this?" Helga snorted. Then all of a sudden, the wind settled a little and it began to rain. Just a few drops at first, then it started to pour. The fire began to smoke and go out.

"Now what, Arnold?" Gerald asked, pulling his costume shirt over his head.

Arnold thought for a moment and stood up. "Come on, let's go over to the house and stay under the porch till the rain stops."

From the looks on the faces of Gerald, Phoebe and Eugene, that was about the last thing that they wanted to do. Curly crossed his arms over his chest. "Arnold, are you crazy?!"

"There's the pot calling the kettle black," Helga muttered looking at Curly holding onto "Wilson" protectively. She stood also, "For once, I'm with the football-head, let's get out of this rain before we're soaked." She turned and started up the weed-covered, cobblestone path from the docks toward the house.

"Helga, wait up," Arnold called out following her. A moment later, Gerald and Phoebe shared a worried look, then took the other's hand and started up after their best friends. Eugene followed closely behind them.

Curly shook his head, "No way me and Wilson are coming up to that house!" Just after he muttered those words, a strong blast of thunder rattled his bones and a large bolt of lightning came from the sky striking the water not far from the pier. "Wait up!" He snatched up the volley ball and followed them.

Unknown to the five stranded preteens, someone was watching them make their way up the path from one of the windows upstairs through the tattered and worn curtains. Had any of them looked at the old house when the last lightning bolt flashed, they might have seen a tall, dark silhouette in the window for a moment.

_**To Be Continued . . . **_


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five: Into The Mansion**

They were all dripping wet by the time they made it up to the porch. The rain was now coming down very hard. The ancient gutters on the old house were overflowing and water gushed from the holes underneath it.

Arnold had lost his Zorro hat on the run up to the porch and had to make do with his bandana. Helga's makeup was smeared all over her face and she used the hem of her wet, tattered dress to wipe it off in a couple of quick swipes. Curly was dripping wet and held Wilson protectively under his tattered shirt in an attempt to keep the painted face on the volley ball dry. Gerald was practically dripping all over because he helped shield Phoebe from the rain as much as he could on the way. Phoebe's cat costume was matted with water and began to smell a little. Eugene removed the alien head dress from his head and set it on the railing of the porch.

The six of them (not counting Wilson) took the time wringing out their costumes to get a closer look at the house.

The porch itself was rotten in several places and leaking onto rotting and moss-covered boards. Spider webs covered all on one side of the porch with large spiders and various small desiccated moth and fly corpses covering it. A pair of broken, ancient-looking chains where a porch swing once hung swayed a little in the wind. A broken rocking chair lay just outside of the broken porch railing, along with the remains of a porch screen that was completely torn out. The windows on the porch were all boarded up and broken glass lay in crushed shards on the ground by them. The front door was boarded up carefully. Graffiti covered the peeling white paint and the boards covering the windows, some carved, others spray painted or just written on in magic marker. Both porch lights were gone and only black gaping holes remained as evidence that they'd ever been there. Dried leaves covered the floor of the porch and it smelled like something decaying and rotten.

Lightning crashed close by on the water making all of the kids jump slightly. Phoebe leaned in closer to Gerald, burying her face into his chest. He held her tightly out of panic also, as well as comfort.

Curly held the volley ball closer and nodded, "Yeah, I know, Wilson, I'm scared too." Then he turned and suddenly there was a creaking sound and a loud bang. The others all jumped and Curly screamed as his foot fell through the board. He dropped the volley ball on the porch. "AHH! OLD MAN WYLIE'S GOT ME! RUN FOR IT, WILSON! AHH!"

Helga just snorted and then shook her head, "Oh, pipe down, you little _freak_! You just put your foot through the wood! _Criminy_!" She and Gerald each grabbed an arm and pulled Curly out of the trap.

Curly picked up Wilson and then said, "I - I knew that, I was just testing you guys, right Wilson?" The ball's face seemed to mock him and he frowned, "Some friend you are."

Helga shook her head, "You are such a baby. Sheesh, I'm trapped on loser island."

Arnold looked around at the porch and said, "We need to get in out of this storm." He was busy examining the boards covering the windows when another bolt of lightning crashed nearby, with a crack of thunder so loud it jarred their bones and seemed to shake the house. The flash lit everything up briefly and then a high-pitched scream almost deafened him. Helga jumped into his arms and wrapped them around his neck tightly a moment later, still screaming at the top of her lungs. He held onto her, mostly out of instinct and fear of the lightning.

Helga pointed at the end of the other corner of the porch, "IT'S A GHOST! AHHHHHHH!" Her eyes were wide with terror as she pointed. All of them turned to look at where she pointed.

A moment later, something _did_ flutter from the side of the house at the very end of the wrap around porch. It was white, though slightly dirty, and torn in places. The next lightning flash made it look transparent and ghostly. For a moment, all of them thought it really _was_ a ghost. Then the flash of lightning passed and the shape could be seen for what it was, just a piece of tattered curtain hanging out of one of the boarded windows on the side of the house and fluttering rain-soaked in the heavy wind.

All of them breathed a sigh of relief and then Gerald, Phoebe, Eugene and Curly (with Wilson) all turned to look at Helga in Arnold's arms, with her arms around his neck and Arnold holding onto her. Helga blinked and jumped out of his arms brushing herself off, even though she was wet down to her skin. "Yuck, don't get so cozy, _bucko_!" She muttered and then crossed her arms scowling. It was just dark enough for her to hide the blush on her face over her embarrassment.

Curly just shook his head and smirked, "Gee, look who's scared now, Wilson."

Helga frowned and muttered, "Gee, look who's about to have a bloody nose, Wilson."

Gerald got between them, "Will you two pipe down, this doesn't help anything!"

Arnold just rolled his eyes and turned back to examining the boards covering the door. They were newer than the rest of the house, but not quite that new. They were starting to rot and the nails in them were rusty, and a few of them were not nailed all the way in and crooked. He tired to pull one of these but it didn't budge. They were a lot tougher than they looked and very effective in keeping people out.

He turned to everyone and said, "We can't get in this way."

Gerald looked at him and asked, "Arnold, why in the world do we_ want _to go in there? I thought you said it was condemned and not safe in there."

Arnold nodded, "I did, but this storm is bad and we need to get in out of it until someone comes to look for us."

"Can't we just stay out here on the porch?" He asked nervously. A moment later, another close bolt of lightning and loud crash of thunder made all of them jump again. Gerald then said, "Um, on second thought, maybe I can help you get one of those boards loose."

There was another loud crash a moment later, following by the sound of something banging beside the porch on the other side of the house. The kids jumped again.

"W-what was that?" Eugene asked, looking anxious, looking in that direction.

Arnold began to walk over there, and Gerald grabbed his arm. "What in the world are you doing, man?"

"I'm going to go check it out," he said pulling his arm away and looking determined.

"Be careful, Arnold," Gerald said anxiously. Behind him Helga looked on anxiously also, thinking,_ 'Be careful, my love.'_

Arnold walked carefully, and as quietly as he could toward the far end of the porch. Almost every step he took, the floor boards of the porch creaked beneath his feet. He pushed aside the sticky spider webs, watching for a moment as the web's inhabitants crawled on their many legs away from the giant who was wrecking their work. Some of the webs stuck to his black costume as he passed through them.

More banging could be heard. Arnold moved closer and closer till he finally reached the end of the porch. He put his hands on the railing and leaned over slowly to take a look . . .

Suddenly, there was a flash of lightning and a crack and Arnold yelled as the rotten porch rail gave way and he fell forward over the side onto the muddy ground.

"ARNOLD!" Both Helga and Gerald yelled at the same time, eyes wide and scared. They ran to him, through the remains of the spider webs, followed closely by the others.

"Arnold, man are you OK?" Gerald asked as they reached the end and looked over.

Arnold was sitting up and rubbing his head. He was now a little muddy and dripping wet. "Yeah, I'm fine, Gerald." He turned his head and blinked. "Hey guys, I found it!"

"Found what?" Phoebe asked.

"What was causing the noise and a way inside, look!" The football-headed boy pointed beside the porch on the side of the house. When the other kids looked, they saw what Arnold was talking about.

The tree on the left side of the house was close against the wall and one of the remaining branches was banging against the house in the wind. Just below this dead tree were a pair of cellar doors set in a brick foundation. Neither of these were open, but there were broken boards laying beside it, next to the house. The doors themselves and the broken boards looked to be more rotten than the rest of the ones on the porch, probably because they were exposed to the elements easier out in the open.

"Maybe it's locked," Eugene said, in a tone that said he _hoped_ they were.

Arnold stood up and walked over to the doors and tried one of them. It opened with a rusty creak at first, then the strong wind picked up and the door's handle slipped from Arnold's grasp, causing the rotting door to open all the way, crashing into the ground and coming loose off of its upper hinges.

"Come on, guys, lets get inside," Arnold called out to them. "Eugene, give me one of the flashlights we brought along."

Eugene did so, but not before he almost stumbled and dropped it into the mud. The flashlight made it okay, but unfortunately, Eugene wasn't so lucky and he fell head-first into a deep muddy hole. He looked up, mud and brown rainwater dripping from his face and hair and muttered, "I'm okay."

Gerald sighed and shook his head, muttering to himself, "I know I'm gonna regret this." Then he jumped down from the end of the porch and went over with Arnold. Phoebe followed them, standing next to Gerald. Eugene climbed out of the muddy water and joined them.

Arnold looked back at Helga and Curly and said, "You two coming?"

Curly shook his head and answered, "Ha! Are you kidding? Me and Wilson are going to find our own way off this barren island! You guys can go ahead and let Old Man Wylie get you!" With that he away to the end of the porch with the painted volley ball under his left arm.

Arnold looked right at Helga then, and Helga felt like her knees were about to turn to jelly. "What about you, Helga?" He actually seemed to look at her, pleading for her to follow along.

Helga shook her head and snorted, "Yeah right, there are probably thousands of spiders and rats down there! No way, Jose! Count me out!"

Arnold just shrugged and said, "Suit yourself. But stay on the porch where it's drier. And keep and eye out for Earl, or anyone else, okay?"

Helga crossed her arms and said, "What am I, your lookout, or something?"

Arnold finally just sighed and then said, "Fine, see ya." With those words he walked over and started walking down into the cellar. The others followed behind him closely. When they were gone, Helga bit her lip and blew some air between her teeth in frustration at herself. Why did she have to argue with him all the time? She looked back only to see that Curly and "Wilson" had already wondered off in the rain. The little lunatic.

Despite those words, however she was right about one thing. There probably _were_ lots of rats and spiders down in that dark, damp cellar. She snorted and said aloud to herself, "There is nothing that's going to get me down in that cellar."

A second later, a huge bolt of lightning crashed down no more than twenty feet of where she was, creating a small puff of smoke where it hit. The smell of ozone filled the air, and the shock of the noise it made rattled her bones. She let out an ear-piercing scream and then jumped off the porch and ran down inside the cellar steps very quickly.

Helga ran so fast that she slipped and fell down the steps into knee-deep water that smelled really bad. Apparently the entire basement was flooded over.

"Helga? Are you, okay?" It was Arnold who said that. She looked up to see him holding one of the flashlights and offering his hand to her. She took his hand and allowed her to help him up, nodding. "Yeah I'm fine. Just a little shaken up . . ." Then she snapped back to her senses and pulled her hand abruptly from his and said, "And who said you could touch me, _football-head_!"

Arnold just rolled his eyes. He turned away and swung the flashlight around looking at their surroundings.

The cellar was dark, and only the barest light from the small basement windows near the ceiling shown. If they hadn't had flashlights, the only thing that would have guided them were the flashes of lightning outside. Aside from being flooded by knee-deep water and floating debris, the place was full of old broken furniture and smelled like mildew. Streams of water ran down the damp water from outside.

"Man, Arnold, this place smells like my brother's gym socks," said Gerald.

Arnold nodded, "Tell me about it, we need to get out of here."

"Look, there's some more stairs." Eugene said pointing at some old-looking wooden stairs. They didn't exactly look very safe.

"Well, what the heck are we waiting for? Let's get out of this filthy cellar!" Helga started up the stairs and they began to creak badly. She paused halfway up and then her eyes widened.

"Helga! Be careful!" Arnold called up, looking very anxious now. "Go slowly." Helga did as he told for once and she made it to the top a moment later, facing an old wooden door, illuminated by Arnold's flashlight. Helga turned the rusty doorknob and it opened easily.

"The door isn't locked, you guys! Come on!" She called out going just inside to get off the rotten staircase.

Arnold nodded and turned to them, "Okay guys, one at a time up the stairs."

Eugene said, "I'll go next."

"NO!" Arnold, Gerald, Phoebe and Helga all shouted at once. Their voices echoed in the close walls of the basement.

"Um, I mean, you better wait and go last, Eugene," Arnold said diplomatically. He had far too many experiences with Eugene to want to risk another incident of his apparent bad luck.

He turned to the others and said, "You go next, Phoebe."

Phoebe went up the stairs slowly, pausing at every creak her steps made nervously. Helga stood at the top encouraging her to hurry up by saying, "Come on, Phoebe, get the lead out!" The petite girl made it up the stairs after only a little hesitation. Helga patted her back when she made it up the stairs.

"Okay, Gerald, you go next," Arnold said to his best friend. Gerald wasted no time getting up the stairs. He only paused once when a particularly loud creak a few steps away from the top made him decide to go the last couple of steps slowly.

Arnold then went up the stairs carefully testing the boards as he did so. The wood was very old and rotten in several places. When he got to the top of the stairs and inside the doorway, he looked back down and said, "Okay, Eugene, its your go."

The smaller boy managed to get halfway up the stairs when one of the rotten boards gave way and Eugene found himself hanging halfway inside the staircase. Arnold and Gerald hastened to his side and pulled him out. Eugene muttered, "Don't worry, I'm okay." The two boys dragged him back to the top of the staircase and safety.

Gerald took the other flashlight out of his pirate costume and turned it on. Then he said, "Come on, you guys. Let's go find a safe place till someone comes looking for us." For once not even Helga had something sarcastic to say. The five of them then turned and went inside the main part of the house, leaving the cellar behind them.

Just after they left, the cellar doors closed from the other side. None of them heard the sound of a chain being wrapped around the door handles and the metallic click of a lock being put into place.

_**To Be Continued . . .**_

_Sorry about not being able to finish the story before Halloween. Computer issues keep slowing me up. I promise to have the story updated and completed as soon as I can. Stay tuned and read and review. Let me know what you think. -D.R._


	6. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six: Exploring And Discoveries **

The five kids turned away from the cellar door and began to slowly walk down a small hallway. The walls had several rusty nails and blank square places where paintings must have covered the wall before. The green striped wallpaper was peeling in several places, and in others there were basketball-sized holes in the walls themselves. The inside of the house smelled like rotten wood and decay. The sound of the loud thunder could be heard outside the house.

Arnold led the way, followed closely by Gerald on his left and Helga in his right. Phoebe held Gerald's left arm tightly, though Gerald himself didn't mind it at all.Behind them, Eugene was still smiling in his optimistic way and humming that same annoying song that Earl tried to get them to sing with earlier. When Helga turned and gave him an especially annoyed look a moment later, the geek decided that he should be quiet after that.

At the end of the hallway was the front door. Arnold went over to try the doorknob, which pulled out of the rotten, termite-infested wood.

Helga snorted and said, "Now what, Arnold-o?"

Arnold dropped the doorknob, then looked over at the doorway on the right. "Let's try in there."

He led them into a large room that could only have been the living room. It looked even worse off than the hallway had. It was full of old broken furniture piled up on the far wall and more rotten furniture set up in the corners. The large picture windows close to the front door were both boarded up from the outside and all of the glass panes were long since broken by vandals. The only light in the room coming from the cracks between the planks and the flashes of lightning that could be seen. Those flashes cast uneven shadows all over the walls, which had more peeling wallpaper and missing pictures on them, except for one large picture over the mantle of the large fireplace. Arnold shined his light on it and saw that it was a picture of a man dressed in colonial period clothing holding a musket with a grim expression on his face. He suspected it was a picture of the original Wylie who fought during the Pig War.

The fireplace itself was blocked off by an old couch sitting in front of it. Yahoo soda and wine cooler bottles lay around it with more on the mantle, along with some melted candles, giving testimony to the fact that others had been in this room since the incident long ago. The blanket covering the top of the rotting and smelly couch and the soda bottles were other signs, even though the five nine-year-olds paid the latter little mind.

Arnold and Gerald both turned their flashlights around taking in all the cobwebs in the corners of the ceilings, the smell of wet and rotting wood, and the floor, which had a torn carpet on it and creaked in certain places loudly. Gerald looked hoped that the floor was still safe enough to walk on.

"This must be the room where the murders happened," Phoebe said in a terrified whisper. She cringed against Gerald's arm shuddering. "Phoebe, your nails are cutting into my arm, babe," Gerald said, wincing. She let up on her hold a little, blushing up at him.

Arnold shined the light up at the ceiling and saw a chandelier. It was rusting and empty of light fixtures, or light bulbs. A spider web with several huge black spiders hung from it. Nearby was a rotten hole in the ceiling with water leaking down onto the edge of the floor by the windows.

"Old man Wylie killed them all through the house and then hung up their bodies in this very room," Arnold said, almost in a whisper as he searched for any signs of this, looking at the floors for brown bloodstains.

"Hey, I though we were supposed to be trying to find a way out of this place?" Eugene said, looking at all of them a bit anxiously.

Gerald looked at Phoebe and said. "Here hold this a moment." He handed her his flashlight. Then together he and Arnold tried to open the latches on the broken windows to get to the planks boarding up the windows outside.

"Its no use, Gerald," Arnold said, as he finished struggling with the boards, which didn't move an inch. "They're nailed in too tight. I don't think we're going to get out here this way."

"I knew it. There's nothing in here but a bunch of old furniture and spider webs, no ghosts, no signs of foul play, no paranormal phenomenon or anything!" Helga said looking around, now holding Arnold's flashlight and frowning. "This is all just a big crock of -"

There was a flash of lightning from outside that again made the whole room flash unevenly with the shadows from the boarded up windows.

Phoebe's scream a moment later made all of them jump. Helga let out a small yell of her own and turned and looked at Phoebe, heart pounding in her chest. "Criminy, Feebs! What are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?!"

"Phoebe, what happened?" Arnold said, rushing over with Gerald, who stood on her other side looking concerned.

Phoebe was almost white with fear and she was trembling badly as she pointed a shaking finger at the portrait over the mantle. "The eyes! The eyes on the painting! They were moving and they looked right at me!" Gerald took the flashlight from Phoebe and turned it on the portrait. Helga did the same with Arnold's flashlight.

The painting looked exactly as it had when Arnold looked at it before. The eyes were as immobile as they had been before. They didn't look like they were moving at all.

Arnold turned to the smaller girl and tried to calm her. "Phoebe, it must be your imagination, I mean the shadows in the room and the lightning outside probably played tricks on the picture."

"No, Arnold! I saw them! They were red and they moved!" The small oriental girl said hysterically.

"Aw, get a grip, Phoebe!" Helga said, a bit less than as patient as Arnold had been. "It's just a stupid painting, watch." She picked up one of the Yahoo soda bottles off the floor and threw it at the painting hard. It hit and the painting vibrated from the impact. The bottle fell on the couch. A moment later, a loud wailing cry came from the wall where the painting was. All five of the kids all went wide-eyed and backed away from it.

"A-A-Arnold, did you hear what I just heard, man?" Gerald asked, his eyes never leaving the painting.

Arnold looked at the painting blinking and nodded, unable to speak. He didn't take his own eyes off of the painting as he reached down and found another Yahoo soda bottle. He tossed it at the painting. This time it bounced off back onto the floor, but no sound came from it. That didn't stop all of their hearts from pounding hard in their chests.

Gerald looked over at her and said, "Arnold, maybe we should try and find a way out of this place?" Phoebe -still clinging to Gerald's arm- nodded as well.

"For once I agree with _Tall Hair Boy_," Helga said, sounding a little bit uncertain now.

Then the five kids were distracted by another flash of lightning from outside. Again the old living room was lit up with uneven shadows. Only this time, there was another obstruction. It was the silhouette of a tall figure standing outside on the porch wearing a long coat and fisherman's hat.

Helga screamed in a loud, ear-piercing way. She turned and shined her light at the windows, however there was nothing there. "W-w-what was that?!" She practically shouted.

Arnold was by her side in a second and said, "It must have just been Curly outside on the porch." He sounded as if he were trying to assure himself as much as everyone else.

Just then, outside in the rumble of thunder they could hear the sounds of heavy footsteps on the porch. They sounded slow and almost heavier than someone of Curly's size could have managed.

Gerald walked over to the boarded up windows and looked out through a crack. "Hey Curly! Could you give us a hand here with these boards?" There was nothing to be seen outside other than darkness and rain pouring from the gutters.

Arnold boldly joined Gerald while Helga, Phoebe, and Eugene all huddled together behind them. Gerald shined his light into the hole.

"Curly, are you there?" Arnold asked, trying to see outside.

A second later, the half-rotten board just above Arnold's football-shaped head split right down the middle and a long arm popped out of the window from the outside. It was clad in a black rubber raincoat that was dripping wet. A hook was wrapped around it, slightly rusty but still gleaming in the light of Gerald's flashlight.

All five of the kids screamed. "IT'S OLD MAN WYLIE!" Gerald screamed and fell backwards over an empty soda bottle.

The arm swept down and pinned Arnold against the windows before he could back away as well. Arnold's eyes widened in fright as he was caught around the neck in a strong grip. He panicked and tried to grab the arm to struggle, but he couldn't get a good grip on the wet slicker. He almost felt like he couldn't breathe.

"ARNOLD!" Helga screamed, shaking all over in terror as she saw the arm go around the boy's neck. She nearly dropped the flashlight in shock. Her own fears gave way slightly to the fact that her beloved football-head was in danger. Not thinking of herself at the moment, Helga ran right at the arm and swung the hard end of the flashlight at the arm around Arnold's neck. "Let him go! Get off him!" She shouted, hitting the arm again and again.

Gerald reacted a second later and came to the aid of his best friend. He began hitting at it with his own flashlight as Helga was doing. The arm let go of Arnold, who dropped to the ground and backed away coughing. Phoebe and Eugene quickly grabbed his arms and pulled him away from the window.

There was a blood curdling shriek and the hooked arm took a wide swipe at Helga and Gerald, then withdrew into the gaping hole in the boarded window.

"Arnold! Man are you all right?" Gerald asked, rushing over to Arnold's side. He was followed closely by Helga, who stood on his other side, looking down at him in a panicky way. She looked on the verge of tears.

Arnold noticed this and nodded quickly. "I'm fine, I guess." He said breathlessly. He looked over at the window and his heart felt like it was going a thousand beats a minute. Arnold felt himself shaking. "Man, I thought I was a goner there."

Helga was slightly relieved to hear that. She was so afraid and everything happened so fast. She was struggling hard not to just break down and hug him right then and there when all of a sudden all around them a loud, high pitched cackling laugher could be heard.

The kids all turned their heads looking around. Arnold stood wide-eyed and unconsciously drawing closer to Helga. Gerald did the same with Phoebe, who grabbed his arm again. Eugene huddled between both sets of couples, shaking like a leaf in a high wind. Gerald and Helga's flashlight beams searching quickly for the source. The lightning flashing lit up the dimly lit surroundings once more but there was nothing, just the loud, insane laugher that seemed to be coming from all around them.

"_YOU DARE TO TRESPASS ON ME ISLAND ON THIS NIGHT?!" _The voice boomed all around them, the sound giving all of them goosebumps. _"NOW YER BONES WILL BE JOINING THE OTHERS DEEP UNDER THIS HOUSE! FOREVER! AH HA HA HA HA HA!" _

"ARNOLD! LOOK!" Gerald screamed, his flashlight shining up at the ceiling where the brass chandelier began to shake and then wobble up and down on its chain.

"THE PICTURE!" Phoebe shouted again, pointing at the picture on the wall, which now had moving eyes staring down at them sinisterly.

Then the boards on the window where the arm had popped in before burst inward one at a time. There was a flash of lightning which revealed a tall, rain-covered figure in a black fisherman's raincoat covered in what looked like seaweed. The figure's head was covered in a matching hat that made him looked like something off of a package of fish sticks. They couldn't see his face, except for a pair of glowing red eyes that made the hideous figure all the more terrifying. He raised his left arm and a shining hook gleamed.

It was the dreaded and unholy ghost of Old Man Wylie himself coming for revenge.

The kids all screamed at the top of their lungs and ran out of the room at top speed as if their lives depended on it . . . which it did!

_**To Be Continued . . .**_

_Finally, the dreaded Old Man Wylie has returned to claim his vengeance on these trespassers. OH NO! What are our young heroes going to do? What happened to Curly? Where is Captain Earl? How will they escape from this nightmare! You don't want to miss the next chapter coming soon! Read and Review! -D.R._


	7. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven: Survival**

The kids ran out of the living room and down the hallway back toward the cellar door. They were all in panic, hearts thumping fast in their chests and breathing heavily. They ran past the door to the end of the hallway where it branched off to the right in an L-shaped pattern. The entrance there was covered with spider webs, but all five of them ran through them. Compared to getting killed by an un-dead zombie spirit, the prospect of getting spider bitten was far less important.

The hallway there was also smaller and there were three doors to the left and an old, not very safe-looking stairway to the right. Gerald, who was in the lead, ran to the second doorway on the left and opened it. All of them entered and closed the door quickly behind them.

The room looked like a guest room. There was no furniture in the room, except for the frame of an old wooden canopy bed with no mattresses on them, or curtains. There was a doorway on the far right wall, probably an adjoining room. It had three rotten boards nailed across the door frame.

"_Where all going to die!" _Helga whispered anxiously. She sat down against the wall and wrapping her arms around her legs shaking badly. _"I do believe in haunted houses! I do! I do! I swear I'll never question the supernatural again!" _

Eugene was backed up against the wall on the other side of the room between two boarded up windows. He looked as pale white as a ghost himself and his eyes never seemed to leave the door, as if he half expected it to burst open and Old Man Wylie come in with his bloody hook and finish them off. He probably was.

Phoebe meanwhile was holding onto Gerald again shivering and crying against his arm. Gerald hugged her and patted her back, all the while shaking and close to hysterics himself.

Arnold was still by the door, doing his best to get a grip on himself after his brush with death. He was leaning over and holding onto his knees and trying to calm down._ 'I could have been killed back there,' _he though and almost wet himself. _'If Helga hadn't rushed forward and Gerald hadn't joined in, I could have been cleaved open by Old Man Wylie's hook!' _He looked over at Gerald, who was comforting Phoebe and nodded at him when their eyes meet.

Then he looked over at Helga, who was rocking back and forth in panic, muttering to herself, eyes wide and far away. Arnold walked over to her, suddenly feeling an impulse to hold her and tell her everything would be okay. She looked up at him when he knelt down in front of her. "Helga, we all have to calm down and think if we're all going to get out of this alive." He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. "I need you. We all need you. OK?"

Helga blinked as she looked up at Arnold, who was looking at her very seriously. His words registered in her mind. _'He said he needed me! Arnold said that! To me!' _Outwardly, she just nodded and took a deep breath, then stood up. Inside, she felt herself calming and growing stronger. Even if she were to die in this place, at least she would be with her one and only, Arnold, who needed her.

Arnold smiled and stood up also looking around at everyone else. "We have to stay calm."

"Calm?! Arnold there's an insane ghost outside that's trying to kill us and you want us to be calm?!" Gerald asked, looking at Arnold anxiously.

"We have to keep our heads if we want to survive and get off this island." Arnold said looking at all of them. "I know all of you are scared, so am I. But if we panic then all of us, they we won't be able to think rationally and get out of this."

Eugene was still scared, though he was trying to push aside the panic that kept threatening to come back. Gerald was still holding Phoebe and trying to reassure her, even though he himself looked less than assured. Finally Phoebe pulled back. Gerald removed her glasses and she wiped her eyes nodding. He handed them back to her and smiled reassuringly. She smiled back.

Helga looked at Arnold and seemed to be back to her old self. "So, how do you propose we get out of this run down shack?" Arnold noticed that she didn't add 'football-head' or 'Arnold-o' this time.

"Yeah, Arnold," Gerald said walking over. "What's the plan?"

Arnold thought for a moment, then he said, "There's only one ghost out there. Maybe if we split up, he can't follow us all?"

Gerald blinked, "Split up! Arnold how many horror movies have you ever seen? Don't you know what happens when the people being stalked by a killer splits up? They get picked off one at a time!"

"That's right," Eugene said walking over.

"Well, maybe if we – "Arnold trailed off as the sound of heavy footsteps could be heard just outside the doorway in the hall. His eyes widened and everyone paused, looking at the doorway anxiously. They waited for what seemed like the longest moments of their young lives, then the footsteps trailed off and the sound of a door being opened could be heard next door.

Gerald walked slowly over to the wall and put his ear against it. He seemed to be concentrating. Then his eyes widened and he pointed whispering, "He's in the next room."

The panic began to set in again among all of them.

Just then, the same creepy voice spoke boomed all around them. "ARNOLD . . . GERALD . . . EUGENE . . . HELGA . . . PHOEBE . . ." All of their eyes widened in horror as he mentioned their names. Phoebe covered her mouth shaking in fear. They all huddled together in the middle of the room.

Arnold looked up and spoke up boldly, "How do you know our names?!"

There was a sound like thumping footsteps above their heads. Then the voice spoke up again, "I CAN SEE INTO ALL OF YER THOUGHTS! I CAN SMELL YER FEAR! THERE'S NO PLACE FOR YE TO RUN! NO PLACE FOR YE TO HIDE! I BE EVERYWHERE!"

At that moment, the door on the far side of the wall opened up from the other side and Old Man Wylie stood there, hook gleaming and trying to break through the planks. Red eyes flashing in the darkness beneath his fisherman's hat.

"AHHHH!" The kids opened the door and ran out of the room. They all ran up the stairs, except for Eugene, who ran right back for the living room. They were halfway up the staircase, when they saw Eugene run around the corner.

"Eugene! NO! WAIT!" Arnold shouted. He started back down the steps past Helga after the geek, when a pale, grimy hand popped up from a missing stair and grabbed Helga's ankle. She screamed out in horror. "ARNOLD! HELP ME!"

"Oh my gosh! Helga!" Phoebe shouted out. She tried to go to her friend's aid, but she slipped on one of the stairs and fell backwards, grabbing Gerald and taking him tumbling back down the stairs after her. They both landed at the bottom, kicking up dust when they landed.

Arnold turned and actually stomped on the hand around Helga's ankle. "Get off her!" He shouted out, half angry and half afraid. The hand retreated into the hole. A moment later, the third door burst open and Old Man Wylie's ghost came after them. Gerald and Phoebe stood up and took off back down the hallway toward the living room and then off to the doorway on the left into an old dining room.

Arnold and Helga took off upstairs screaming, with Old Man Wylie's ghost walking up the stairs behind them.

* * *

Meanwhile, back outside, Curly and "Wilson" were wandering around the shore of the small island in the rain looking for anything at all they could use to get off the island. Curly came up with the idea of making a raft. Already he'd found a length of rope under the porch and some sturdy-looking (meaning slightly less rotten) planks of wood. He set them up along the shore with the remains of the porch swing and two rain barrels he managed to roll over from the end of the porch. He used a brick he found and took some of the rusty nails out of the more rotten planks on the nearby windows to seal up the holes in the rain barrels.

"Don't you worry, Wilson," Curly said as he worked on his getaway raft. "It's going to take more than this hurricane to stop us from escaping this deserted island!" He laughed his slightly insane laugh in the crashing lightning - and then banged the brick he was using as a hammer into his left thumb. "OW!"

He looked at the painted smiley face on the ball and frowned, "What are you laughing at? Go find us something to use as a sail!" He swatted the ball with his hand - making his thumb hurt again - and the ball went rolling and came to a rest near the turbulent shore. Curly ran after it and then smiled when he saw that "Wilson" came to rest right by the remains of what looked like the walls of a port-o-potty.

"Good job, Wilson!" He nodded approvingly. "Now help me get this things ashore. Come on you lazy thing, it's like I'm always carrying you around."

_**To Be Continued . . . **_

_It looks like everything is coming to a head. The action is reaching it's climax, only two more exciting chapters to go, and then this story will be completed at last! AHAHAHAHAHAH! Oops sorry, got a bit carried away there! LOL! Stay Tuned! Read and Review!  
Oh and Jae B, I believe you may be onto something, but you'll have to read the next chapter to find out. (Wink wink) -D.R. _


	8. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight: Old Man Wylie Revealed**

Eugene ran into the living room where they started from and straight for the now open window. He didn't even pause to climb over it, he actually made a leap to jump straight out of it, when his foot caught on the bottom of the window and he tripped and did a complete flip before landing hard on the rotten wood planking of the porch. He saw starts dance before his eyes. "I'm OK," he muttered in a daze before he passed out.

Gerald and Phoebe meanwhile ran into the dining room across from the living room and looked around frantically for a hiding place. There was only a long table, which was as old as the house and had several things spray-painted and carved all over it. The walls had more cobwebs and old pealing wallpaper on it. There was another doorway on the other side of the room, probably leading to the kitchen. Gerald grabbed Phoebe's hand, "This way!" Then he led her inside. The room was bare except for a couple of rotten counters and an old sink. There was a door on the other side of the room that was closed. The missing glass in the frame showed more boards.

"We're trapped!" Phoebe squealed anxiously. She looked like she was on the verge of tears. Gerald looked around and saw another door in the back. "Come on!" Still holding her hand he led her to the door and opened it. Inside was an empty pantry with empty shelves on both sides and a generous amount of mouse droppings on the floor.

There was a lot of thumping above them, like heavy footsteps. Both of them hid in the pantry and shut the door, trembling in terror.

Meanwhile upstairs, Arnold and Helga ran down another small hallway trying every door. There were two doors on either side. The one on the front right was locked and the another on the left was boarded up. The third door at the end on the left was open and they ran inside, closing the door behind them. The room was another bedroom with a missing bed, but a huge wardrobe to the left of the doorway and a small night stand sitting to the right. There was an open window on the side. While Arnold did his best to move the old night stand in front of the door. Helga ran straight for it and looked outside. Just outside of it was the top of the porch with the roof slanted down and dripping with rain water. The rain had slackened up a little.

"Arnold, we can get out this way!"

Arnold looked out of it and said, "Helga, it's too dangerous!" Then there was a pounding on the door, like someone was hitting it with something hard – like a hook.

Helga screamed. She looked at Arnold in total panic. "We're trapped!"

Arnold looked around and saw the wardrobe. "In there!" He grabbed her arm and pulled her over to it. She didn't protest, being too scared to think straight. He opened the wardrobe and saw it was empty except for a couple of clothes hangers hanging on the metal bar and an extra hanger on the back. Together both of them jumped inside of it and closed the doors.

Outside the pounding continued. Helga whimpered and leaned over burying her face into Arnold's neck. Arnold put his arms around her and held her tightly, shaking with fear. Arnold knew that once the ghost broke through the doorway, it would find them in the wardrobe and finish them off.

Helga apparently knew that too and she said to Arnold in the darkness, "Arnold, before we die, I just – I wanted you to know that –"

Arnold just nodded, knowing what she was going to say and answered, "I know, Helga. I – I feel the same way."

They both just held each other a moment and they both kissed each other. Then they pulled back and blinked in the darkness, and ironically had to fight the urge to laugh a moment. Here they were about to die and they pick now to be truthful about their feelings.

There was a loud splintery crack and both of them tensed up, knowing that Old Man Wylie's ghost was now in the room. They could hear his footsteps. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Helga realized that this was it. After everything she'd done in her brief life, and all the things she had yet to do, that this was really how it all ended. She felt at least some comfort in the fact that she would die in Arnold's arms, not a whole lot of comfort, but enough to make it not feel like a total loss.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The footsteps moved closer to where they were. Both of them leaned back against the wardrobe, still hold onto one another tightly, and then . . .

Suddenly, they fell over as the wall behind them gave way and flipped around. They both landed on the floor beyond with Helga on top of Arnold. Dust kicked up everywhere. From beyond the wall was the sound of the wardrobe's doors opening and then more thumps could be heard.

Both Arnold and Helga remained in that position, not speaking but listening tensely as the footsteps went away. "I think he's moved on," Arnold whispered. Helga paused listening and nodded, then looked down at Arnold, who looked up at her then. Both of them blushed at the same instant as they realized how they were laying. Helga sat up and Arnold slid out from under her, both of them blushing.

"Are you all right?" Arnold asked her, offering a hand.

Helga took it and nodded at him, "I think so . . . where the heck are we anyway?"

Arnold looked around at the plaster walls and the cobwebs. "I think this is some sort-of secret passage way."

"Hey, I can see you," Helga said, looking right at him.

Arnold blinked and just then realized that he could indeed see Helga clearly. There was some light ahead of them that appeared to be coming from an open doorway close by. "Come on," he said, walking ahead to the light. Helga followed close behind fearfully.

The open doorway turned out to be a large piece of glass, which Arnold found out the hard way when he ran face-first into it. He staggered back and Helga stop him from falling over. "Be careful, football-head," she told him quietly, though with more affection that she normally used when calling him that.

Beyond the glass was another bedroom a lot like the one that they were just in. It was empty except for some holes in the wallpaper and a broken chair in the corner. There was also something else on the other side. The lightning flash showed the figure of Old Man Wylie clearly. Helga was about to scream, but Arnold pushed her back against the wall and covered her mouth with his left hand. He brought his finger up to his lips and gestured for her to be quiet. Both of them shook in fright. What if the ghost found them? What if he already knew where they were?

He turned their way and seemed to look at them, but he turned away, apparently not able to see them. Arnold blinked and then realized that they must be behind a one-way-mirror.

Suddenly the sound of laughter could be heard on the other side of the glass.

It wasn't the sound of the deep, maniacal laugher from the ghostly voice that they heard before. Instead, this was the laugher of someone who was highly amused.

Three highly amused laughs to be exact.

Old Man Wylie removed his coat to reveal someone tall standing inside of it. Not a vengeful spirit, or an un-dead zombie risen from a watery grave, but a tall boy with a large beak-like nose and spiky hair. It was Stinky!

Two other figures suddenly appeared in the sight of the glass. Arnold didn't need the next flash of lightning to know who it was. He and Helga both could clearly hear Harold and Sid's laughter from where they were.

"How did it go, Stinky?" Sid asked, eyes watery from mirth.

Stinky was doubled over, almost laughing too hard to answer. He took a breath as he answered, "Y'all should have seen em run!" He laughed harder now.

Harold laughed also as he pretended to run around mocking their fear, "Oh no, it's Old Man Wylie's ghost! Run for your lives! AH-HAHAHA!"

Sid smirked and said, "I have to tell you, this idea of mine was genius!"

"Hey, it was _my_ idea!" Harold said. "I'm the one who thought up this whole prank to play on them."

"Yeah, well I was the one who came up with the whole moving chandelier and the red eyeballs on the painting," Sid said smugly. Then he added, "Plus I was the one who found the passageway from this room to the peep holes behind the painting, not to mention the voice." He turned and reached out of view and pulled back a megaphone to deepen his voice. "YE WILL NEVER MAKE IT OUT OF ME HOUSE ALIVE!"

"Y'all should have seen Helga screaming, on account of her being so scared," Stinky added.

All three of the pranksters laughed then.

Both Arnold and Helga looked at them astonished and angry. Helga actually growled a little through Arnold's hand. He had to fight very hard to keep her from shouting out angrily. As it was the three of them did hear the noise.

"W-what was that?" Stinky said, sounding a bit nervous.

"Oh, um, it must have been the wind outside, yeah that's it, the wind," Sid suggested, though his facial expressions suggested that he was just trying to convince himself of that.

Harold looked very scared and said, "M-maybe we should get out of here?"

Sid quickly got over his fear and said, "Come on, guys, we spent all day setting up these pranks and we know that there's no ghost in here." He went over to the discarded coat and smirked. "I think Gerald and Phoebe are in the pantry downstairs in the kitchen. Let's get in a few more good scares."

"Yeah!" The other two said as they both dressed up in rain coats and hats. Harold looked at himself in the glass that Arnold and Helga were looking through. Arnold realized that it must be a one-way mirror, because Harold didn't notice them. What he _did_ do was pick his nose like a doofus before he left the room with the others.

Arnold let go of Helga's mouth then and she was angry. "Those jerks! What a rotten trick! When I get my hands on them, I'll ring their necks!" She made a gesture with both of her fists together which looked a lot like someone getting their neck twisted.

Arnold agreed with her, though his mind was not on what she was saying, but on the fact that the three boys had been really scared for a moment there. He suddenly smiled widely and then turned to Helga and put a hand on her arm. "Wait, I have a better idea."

Helga smiled, both from the fact that Arnold was touching her, and because of the devious way he smiled, which said that his cleaver little mind (which she loved just as much as the football-shaped head it was in) just came up with a good idea. "What did you have in mind?"

Arnold smiled at her and then whispered in her ear (which gave her goosebumps). She smirked more as she heard his brilliant plan, and soon had a smile as devious as his own had been.

_**To Be Concluded . . .**_

_What does Arnold have in mind? What happened to the others? Will Curly and Wilson escape the island? Find out these things and more when I post the last chapter! Read and Review! -D.R._


	9. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine: Payback And Conclusions**

Outside, the rainstorm was finally beginning to slack off to a heavy drizzle. Curly was just finishing up his raft with Wilson facing him on a nearby stump. Curly finished tying off the wooden door to the sealed rain barrels and then stepped back next to Wilson and looked at the finished raft. It was crudely put together with rope and rusty nails that were only halfway pounded into the rotten wooden planks of the porch door laying across a pair of sealed rain barrels. The port-o-potty wall Wilson "found" was set behind the porch swing set near the middle for Curly to sit.

Curly wiped a small tear from his left eye. "Isn't that the most beautiful sight in the world Wilson?" He looked down at the volley ball a moment then frowned. "Hey, so what if I couldn't find any paint? There's just no pleasing you, is there?" He waited a moment. "Oh shut up!"

Then he picked up the ball and said, "Well time to get out of here and back to civilization." With that he set Wilson up on the porch swing and then pushed the raft into the cold, turbulent water. It seemed to float very well, and Curly pumped his fist into the air triumphantly, "We did it, Wilson! Civilization, here we come!"

* * *

Still hiding in the empty kitchen pantry, Gerald had his arms around Phoebe, who was trembling nearly as badly as he was. Under normal circumstances, holding her alone in a small closet would have been more exciting – and a lot more pleasurable – if it weren't for the fact both of them were scared out of their minds.

Above them the sound of thumping footsteps could be heard. Both of them shuddered with every thump. Any moment now, the ghost of Old Man Wylie would come downstairs and cleave them with his rusty hook.

"Gerald, I'm scared," Phoebe said, burying her face into his chest. Gerald hugged her closely and closed his own eyes. "Me too, Phoebe. There's . . . well, a lot that I never got to do."

"Feelings of regret are very commonplace when one is about to go through their last moments alive," Phoebe said just then, sounding like her usual, logical self, even though her voice was shaky.

Gerald sighed, "Yeah, I never even got to eat all my Halloween candy." Phoebe blinked and pulled back looking at him strangely. Gerald saw the look she had, then thought about what he'd just said, then started to laugh. Phoebe blinked again and then started to laugh at his reaction also.

"W-why are we . . . laughing over this?" Gerald said, heaving between breaths. "We're about to die . . . and we're . . . laughing!"

Phoebe was also having a difficult time talking between laughs. "It's . . . also quite normal psychologically . . . in times of stress, or danger . . . to . . . find things humorous."

Both of them held onto one another and managed to get back under control a moment later. They felt a_ little_ better now at least, despite the fact they were both still scared to death.

* * *

Outside on the porch, Eugene slowly began to regain consciousness and tried to stand up. He was still out of it and accidentally fell off the edge of the porch and into a puddle of thick mud that the rain made of the ground. When he tried to stand up, he landed onto some dried weeds and was now covered in mud and weeds.

* * *

Upstairs, after the three pranksters left the room, Arnold pushed against the one-way mirror and it opened up. Apparently Sid, Stinky, and Harold never found out about this one.

Helga followed him out and pointed at the wall across from there, where a hole could be seen where a smaller mirror had been removed from the wall. "Look at that," she said, noticing how there were a pair of lights shining from the hole.

Arnold went over and saw that it looked like a pair of eye holes. He looked through them and saw the abandoned living room beyond them. Judging from the angle of the view, they looked to be behind the painting over the fireplace. He could imagine Sid up here with the megaphone he'd left in the room, making it sound like it was the ghost of Old Man Wylie speaking all around, while Stinky dressed up to scare them downstairs, and Harold made the loud footsteps overhead.

He saw the three boys sneaking around downstairs from the holes now. Stinky was in the black rain slicker, while Sid and Harold followed behind snickering.

Arnold turned back to where Helga was gathering up everything that they would need. He smiled when he saw the smirk on her face. Somehow that devious smirk didn't seem so bad when it wasn't directed at him personally. He blushed a little when he remembered how those lips had been against his before in the wardrobe. Almost as if she could read his mind, she looked up at him and their eyes locked a moment. Both of them looked away blushing a moment later.

"Um, I got everything, Arnold," she said, holding up the bundle.

He smiled picking up the megaphone and said, "Good job, now let's go give them a taste of their own medicine."

Now that they were both back on track, the two of them concentrated on the task at hand.

* * *

"OK, we're going to have to make a break for it," Gerald said looking down at Phoebe.

"But Gerald, there's no way off the island," Phoebe said, looking up at him worried. "Where can we go?"

Gerald put his hands on her shoulders firmly and said, "We don't have any choice. If we stay here, he will get us anyway. We need to find Arnold and the others and then get to the lake. We can try and float away on some of the wooden planks from the old pier."

Phoebe blinked, "Gerald, there's a storm out there!"

"I'd rather take my chances out there than get caught by that ghost."

"Gerald, I – I'm scared," Phoebe said meekly.

"I know, me too," Gerald said, and then closed his eyes and hugged her. She hugged him back tightly for a moment. Then she looked up at him, "OK, I'm ready as I'll ever be?"

Gerald smiled at her, then he put a finger under her chin, tilting her face up to his, and then he leaned over and planted a kiss on her lips. Phoebe closed her eyes and both of them felt a tingle go down their spines, almost like an electrical shock. He pulled back a moment later and smiled a little embarrassed by his actions. "Um, sorry, I don't know why I did that."

Phoebe smiled bashfully and answered, "Another thing that fear can induce is a feeling of extreme physical desire in the heat of the moment."

Gerald blinked at her simply statement of fact. "Oh, um I see." He looked a bit disappointed for a moment. Then unexpectedly, Phoebe put both of her hands on either side of his face and then pulled him down and kissed him again, this time with a bit more determination.

When they pulled apart this time, Phoebe blushed and added, "Although, it could also be that you just wanted to kiss me too." Gerald looked momentarily out of it and then grinned and took her small hand into his own larger one. "Come on, babe, let's get out of here and find our friends."

Phoebe nodded and looked a bit more determined and less afraid now. "Right."

Together the two of them left the pantry slowly and went toward the living room again holding hands.

* * *

"Hey, I hear them coming," Stinky whispered behind the living room entrance to his two co-conspirators. Harold and Sid were both putting on a pair of creepy werewolf masks and snickering.

This was going to be the grand finale to their ultimate Halloween prank. They would lie in wait till they tried to go out the window in the living room, which was now the only place in, or out of the house, other than the terrace that Stinky and used to climb down before and padlock the now useless cellar entrance. When the others came inside, they would then scare all of them one more time and chase them down to the water's edge. Then they would pull off their masks and shout out, "Happy Halloween!"

The prank would forever earn them a place in Gerald's Urban Legends as the greatest Halloween prank of all time. Even better than the Halloween stunt last year where Arnold and Gerald accidentally made half the city think that there was a alien invasion.

All they had to do now was get Gerald and Phoebe, who were now the last ones left in the house. At least so far as they believed anyhow.

"Shhh," Sid said in a whisper. "Get ready." He snickered behind his mask in anticipation as he hid in the shadows. Harold was behind him, covering his mask-covered mouth and shaking with glee. "This is gonna be good."

* * *

Gerald and Phoebe were about to walk out of the dinning room and into the hallways when they heard something that sounded like a loud, wailing shriek. They both held each other shaking with fright.

Unknown to them, three other people they didn't even know were in the house with them also did the same thing. Sid, Stinky and Harold all blinked and looked at each other.

"W-what was that?" Harold asked, removing his mask and looking around wide-eyed.

"Maybe it was an owl," Sid said, removing his own mask and looking at his friends worried. "Y-yeah, that's it, it was an owl." He sounded as if he were trying to convince himself more than the others.

Above them the sounds of thumping footsteps could be heard upstairs. Again there was that loud, wailing shriek. Then the footsteps grew louder and faster. Then what sounded like loud, deep laughter could suddenly be heard, followed by a rather loud female scream that made all the boys wince.

"I-I-I don't like the sound of this fellers," Stinky said, stuttering and backing away.

Suddenly a loud male voice shouted out, "N-NO . . . NO! DON'T KILL ME! PLEASE!"

The boys all backed up away from the doorway and looked around shaking badly now. Sid looked like he was about to hyperventilate. Stinky looked as if he'd lost all the color in his pale skin, and Harold suddenly felt something warm run down his legs, and knew he'd just peed himself in terror.

This was too much for Gerald and Phoebe, who both let out yells of their own. Gerald pulled Phoebe along, "Let's get the heck outta here!" Both of them ran into the hallway – where they ran right into two figures, who grabbed them and covered their mouths before they could scream . . .

* * *

Back in the living room, Sid, Stinky and Harold all huddled together in fright.

"M-m-maybe we should get out of here?" Sid suggested nervously.

"YOU WON'T BE GOING ANYWHERE!" A loud voice bellowed at the doorway. They boys all turned that way and froze at what they saw.

There were four figures standing at the doorway now. One was Helga dressed up in her ghost bride costume looking even more frightening, her face was a bloodless white color and her eyes were wide, almost as if they were like a corpse that died in terror. Beside her were Gerald and Phoebe, both of whom also had bloodless faces and dazed looks on their faces.

The three boys overactive imaginations all went haywire then. Stinky's eyes almost popped out of their sockets from fright. "Wilkers! Zombies!"

"_You can't leave this island,"_ the Gerald zombie said, in a gravely voice as if his mouth were full of dirt from the grave itself.

"_You had your chance, now it's too late for you too, just like it's too late for us," _the Helga zombie said, speaking up. Her eyes never blinked and looked through them as if looking into the beyond.

"_We belong to him now," _the Phoebe zombie said, drooling out of the corner of her mouth.

Then, from behind them, a tall figure appeared at the doorway. He had a long black slicker with matching hat and a hook on his right hand. "NOW YE WILL BE JOINING ME HERE, FOREVER!"

The boys all screamed at the top of their lungs. "AH! IT'S OLD MAN WYLIE!" Harold screamed and ran right to the open window and made a jump, getting stuck halfway in and out. It didn't matter, because Sid and Stinky pushed him hard and jumped out onto the porch landing on top of him just as three sets of zombie arms and a hooked hand reached out at them.

The frightened pranksters all ran to the end of the porch, scared out of their wits, trying to escape – when another figure blocked their path. Illuminated by the last lightning flash of the evening was a creature covered in mud and weeds, groaning at them.

Sid screamed, "AHHH! IT'S . . . IT'S SOME OTHER GUY!" He then turned and jumped off the porch and ran to the back of the house. Stinky and Harold ran also screaming. Harold shouted out, "MOMMIE! AHHHHH!"

The three of them ran to the back of the house, uncovered the inflatable raft that they had covered up, and jumped into the murky water. They were in such a hurry to get away, they didn't even bother to retrieve their oars, instead they paddled with their hands so fast it may as well been powered by a motor for the speed it picked up.

From the porch four figures watched and laughed hard at them. Old Man Wylie removed his coat to reveal Arnold holding onto a pair of sticks to make himself look taller. The last bits of rain were washing off the left over ghost makeup that Helga still had from before off of her, Phoebe and Gerald.

"Who's chicken now?" Helga said smirking and looking back at Arnold. He grinned and nodded approvingly. Gerald was still laughing and Phoebe smiled glad that it was all over with.

The muddy figure that surprised the boys from before then tripped into another puddle of muddy water. Eugene re-emerged and sat up, looking up at the four of them and said, "I'm OK." The four kids laughed harder now.

"Well Arnold, I guess that's that then," Gerald said to his best buddy smiling. Arnold nodded and both of them did their friendship handshake, wiggling their thumbs together.

"Um, aren't you two forgetting something," Helga said, turning to them and frowning a little. "We're still stuck on this stupid little island."

Arnold realized that Helga was right. He also realized something else. "Wait a minute, what happened to Curly?"

As if saying the little geeky kid's name were enough to conjure him, Curly could be seen now on the water aboard his improvised raft sailing away from the island with "Wilson" at the front, as if leading the way.

"SO LONG, SUCKERS! ME AND WILSON ARE BOUND FOR THE MAINLAND!" Curly shouted out to them and began to laugh his loud, insane laugh.

Suddenly, something else emerged from the fog and collided with the raft, breaking it apart and sending Curly head-first into the cold water. When he emerged, he looked up and saw that Captain Earl had returned at long last, with Arnold's grandpa, who was holding a flashlight.

The kids on the land cheered and ran to the shore jumping up and down celebrating, as if they'd been trapped there for years. Eugene jumped up and down, then fell face first into the water again. "I'm OK," he muttered.

Phoebe jumped up and gave Gerald a kiss on the cheek. Gerald blushed and hugged her tightly. "We made it."

Arnold and Helga both smiled and looked at each other a moment. Then abruptly both of them looked really embarrassed. "Um, heat of the moment again?" Arnold said with a small smile. "Yeah, all the excitement," Helga added, blushing now, then she put on her usual scowling demeanor and added, pointing a finger right in Arnold's nose, "And don't you tell anyone about it,_ bucko_!" Still, both of them did smile at one another afterward and went back to celebrating.

Curly, on the other hand, was being fished out of the water by Earl with a gaff. He looked around and blinked, "Wait! Wilson?! Where's Wilson?!" He looked out over the water and saw his ball buddy floating away into the fog. He reached out and cried out, "WILSON! NOOOO! WIL–SON!"

* * *

On their way back to shore, Arnold's grandpa explained to them. "When you kids didn't come back, I locked your candy up where Oscar couldn't get to it and then came to find you. I found Earl here asleep and woke him up. We had to wait for the rain to slacken on a bit first though."

Arnold smiled and said, "Thanks grandpa." He was sitting under a wool navy blanket next to Helga, who was not objecting to it at all. Indeed she was smiling a little and seemed a bit lost in thought.

Gerald and Phoebe were sitting close to each other and holding hands under their own blanket. They both looked at one another and smiled. "I'm just glad it's all over with and we got out of there in one piece." Gerald said. "I agree," Phoebe said nodding.

"Yeah, some way to spend Halloween night, huh?" Helga said, leaning back and actually leaning against Arnold under their shared blanket.

"Well, it wasn't all bad," Arnold took a chance and took her hand underneath where nobody could see. Helga felt it and smiled a little more. Helga blinked and then looked at Arnold and smiled entwining her fingers with his. Then she smirked and said, "Yeah, I'll bet those morons are still running."

The kids all laughed – except for Curly, who was still crying over losing Wilson. Eugene looked at him and patted his back, "It'll be OK, Curly. Look, maybe you can make a new friend?" He looked around and then leaned over and pulled a piece of driftwood out of the water. "See this? Maybe you can paint a face on it and name him Plank?"

Curly blinked and took the piece of wood from Eugene and looked at it a moment thinking, then frowned and tossed it over his shoulder back into the water. "Nah, what sort of moron would name a piece of wood, Plank?"

Arnold just shook his head and looked out at their destination. The lights of the city shown brightly as they crossed under the trestle. He smiled and looked back at Helga. "Say, why don't all of you spend the night at my place? We can have a sleep over and eat our candy." Gerald and Phoebe looked at one another and nodded, so did Eugene and Curly, who seemed a little less depressed now.

Helga grinned a little at the idea of spending even more time with her beloved. "Can we stay up all night and watch horror movies?" Arnold nodded and she smirked, "Deal, _football-head _. . . just don't think I'm doing it because I want to be all chummy with you, or anything."

Arnold just smiled and said, "Whatever you say, Helga." He squeezed her hand gently and she responded with a gentle squeeze of her own. The idea of horror movies and sitting next to her the whole time didn't seem so bad to him at all. He looked at his grandpa, who smiled knowingly.

He couldn't help but looked back at Wylie's Wharf once more. The small island and it's creepy old house was nothing but a silhouette against the returning moonlight and fog now, and would soon disappear again once they passed beyond the trestle. Arnold looked at it thoughtfully.

Gerald noticed this and smiled, "Well Arnold, I guess you proved that Wylie's Wharf was not haunted after all."

"Yeah, what a crock," Helga said snorting derisively.

Arnold watched as the house disappeared from sight, swallowed up by the fog. "Yeah, I guess there is no ghost of Old Man Wylie after all."

Grandpa looked at them and said, "Well now, I wouldn't say that." The air around them seemed to go colder somehow.

As their boat passed under the trestle, the wake of their passing rippled the water. Wilson floated along, unseen by anyone else, bobbing up and down on the murky surface. Just then a hooked hand popped up out of the water and snagged the ball, letting out some air with a small pop and pulling the remnants underneath the water, leaving only a ripple and the sound of a low, ghostly cackle in the fog.

**The End**

_Finally, another tale has been told. I hope you enjoyed this and I apologize for the delay in finishing this little finale. I hope it was worth the wait. Thanks to all those who reviewed and who were patient thought all the writer's blocks. May The Force Be With You All! -Your Pal, DarthRoden (a.k.a. Carl)_


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